


The Fault in the Foundation

by ab_cellulano_ad_amicos



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:47:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27666995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab_cellulano_ad_amicos/pseuds/ab_cellulano_ad_amicos
Summary: Longing? Confusion amongst purely professional partners? Yes?I've been binging Bones so hard that my brain became a Bones episode writing bot. So here's what Bones would be like if I were in the writers' room, I guess? Including bi Booth, naturally, and his exploits. The perspective shifts throughout between Booth and Brennan.I imagine this takes place vaguely near the middle/end of the 5th season, prior to Booth's *critical event that happens at the end of season 5.* (If the show happened years ago, can I still accidentally spoil it for people?)
Relationships: Seeley Booth/OC, Seeley Booth/Temperance Brennan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. Booth

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! this is my first time writing fic of any significant length and I'm excited/nervous to be sharing it with you :)

It was a nice Friday night, and usually Booth would be at the diner with Bones. But Dr. Brennan was— as unbelievable as it sounded— taking some time off to go look at dead people in Venezuela. Or was it Ecuador? Definitely South America, Booth was pretty sure of that. It seemed just wrong to take time off to go do your job for free in a different country, but Bones had seemed pretty excited about the dig, so Booth had kept his digs to himself. For the most part. 

Rebecca had Parker that weekend too, so Booth was well and truly on his own. It had been a while since he had rode solo on a weekend, but when 5 o'clock rolled around, his ass sure wasn't still in his desk chair. He'd gotten to his car in time to drive home and beat traffic, and walked to the bar near his apartment in time for happy hour and to catch the game. Double win. Maybe he'd even talk the game over with someone that wouldn't argue about the anthropological importance of sport in society, or ask about the rules every ten seconds. Not that he really minded explaining that stuff to Bones. She explained plenty for him all the time, so it was kind of like returning the favor. And anyway, Booth reminded himself as he settled onto a stool and hailed the bartender, Bones is on vacation. All taken care of, nothing to worry about there. They'd have plenty of bones to talk about when she got back in two weeks. Geez, that's gotta be the longest they'd been apart in a while—  
"What can I get for ya?" Booth was jolted back to reality as the bartender waited patiently for his order. For a Friday night, the place wasn't too packed. 

"Happy hour special, please. Burger medium well and an Oberon. Thanks" 

Booth cracked open a peanut as he waited and watched the game. His team was up a few points, and he smiled as he remembered his game day socks. They always played better when he wore his special socks. 

"What's got you smiling? Don't tell me you're an Eagles fan." A guy had sidled up to the stool next to Booth, and was leaned on one elbow with one eyebrow slightly cocked and a twinkle in his eye. 

"As a matter of fact I am, Philly born and raised. I even have my game day socks on and everything!" Seeley pulled up one of his pant legs to reveal his fun patterned sock. 

The man let out a whistle and his face split into a grin. "Well, I won't hold it against you. Mind if a Giants fan sits next to you?" 

"Be my guest." Booth gestured to the open stool and his new companion settled in. The man was about the same build as Seeley, tall and broad, but instead of wearing a well-maintained suit, he wore jeans and a slightly dirty long sleeve button up, sleeves rolled to the elbow. Seeley noted the man's prominent posterior—/prominent posterior/? Geez, he's been spending too much time with Bones— his /nice ass/ and didn't go to an effort to mask his gaze. 

"You like what you see?" Giants Fan had apparently picked up on what Booth was putting down, and didn't seem perturbed. Cool. It's always uncomfortable to check out someone that doesn't wanna get checked out by you. 

Booth lifted an eyebrow. "For a Giants fan, you know..." He winked, "you're alright so far." 

"Big talk for somebody whose name I don't even know yet," Giants Fan laughed. 

"I'm Seeley." Booth extended his hand for a shake, and was pleased by a smooth and firm grip in return. 

"Jameel. Nice to meet you, Seeley." 

The bartender brought Booth's burger and fries over, then slid his Oberon down the bar. Up on the monitor above the bar, the Giants quarterback took a few stutter steps before sending the ball sailing up the field. Without tearing his eyes from the screen, Seeley took the orange slice off the rim of his glass, squeezed it, and dropped it in. Out of the corner of his eye, he knew Jameel was eagerly watching the game too. Seeley raised his beer to his lips, but before he could drink, the pass was intercepted by an Eagles defender and Booth let out a whoop in celebration. 

"Come on, Jameel, that was a pretty nice interception, you gotta admit." 

Jameel turned back to Booth, flagged the bartender to order, and said, "You just don't give up, man, do you?" 

"It was a good intercept is all, can you blame me?" 

Something behind Jameel's eyes lit up and he said, "Let's make a bet." Seeley lifted his eyebrows in return, not biting yet, but checking out the hook. "If the Eagles win, I buy you a drink. If the Giants win, I take you home with me." 

Booth chuckled. "Sounds like a win either way." 

"And here I was thinking you were a real Eagles fan, but you think you win even if they lose?" 

"I can think of some ways I could forget about it for the evening."

Neither man broke eye contact for a moment, pleasant tension rising between them. Jameel broke the silence and said, "So we're on?" 

"I'm in," Seeley said, shaking Jameel's hand one more time. He really did have a nice grip. "You want a fry?" 

As the evening went on, Seeley and Jameel watched the game together, trading jabs at each other’s teams. They teased each other about other things too, like the best way to eat fries or best stadium in D.C., scooting their stools closer all the while.

"There's something to be said for dipping in ketchup, Seeley, but you gotta make sure it all gets in your mouth."

"Hey, what are you talking about! I'm a perfect gentleman—" 

"Yeah, except..." Jameel trailed off as he lifted a napkin and moved toward Booth's chin. "You got a little something, let me get it."

Seeley gave a small eye roll but lifted his jaw to give Jameel easier access. He gently wiped the smudge away with the napkin and said, "Good as new." 

"I know you're just doing that to be smooth." 

"Is it working?" 

Seeley grinned and considered. "I haven't decided yet." He tore his gaze from Jameel and leaned to the bartender, who had also been watching the game. "Another round for me and my friend here, please." 

"So I'm your friend then, huh, Seeley?"

"Do you want the beer or not, man? We're bitter rivals until the Eagles finish putting the hurt on the Giants, then we can talk about it." 

"Do you buy all your bitter rivals a drink and chat them up all night?"

Instead of responding to Jameel's cheeky line, Seeley nodded at the glowing screen above the bar. "Would ya look at that, Eagles up by 15 now. Not looking so hot for your side of the bet, is it?" With only a minute or so left in the game, there wasn't a hope for the Giants to regain the upper hand. 

"Don't worry, once it’s official, I'll buy you your drink." 

Seeley chuckled and nudged Jameel's shoulder with his own. "Let's forget the bet. I try not to make a habit of gambling nowadays anyway. My apartment is real close, do you wanna come home with me instead?" No big deal if he didn't, but it's worth a shot, right? 

Jameel smiled and looked at Booth in a way that awakened a hunger in the back of his throat and pit of his belly. "I thought you'd never ask, Seeley." 

They left cash on the bar and made a quick exit, even before the final whistle ended the game.

The sun had set while they were in the bar, and the twinkling streetlight danced around Jameel's dark skin, revealing a scattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Booth couldn't help but notice the way his shirt was tight over his solid chest and arms. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, offering his arm to Jameel. "We're this way,” nodding his head in the direction of his apartment. /“Why don’t I do this every Friday night?”/ he wondered to himself. What had he been doing last Friday night? Oh yeah, looking at bones with Bones— his thoughts were interrupted as he felt Jameel’s arm tug his own a bit as he leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Booth’s cheek. 

Surprised, Seeley faced Jameel, his lips parted slightly. He hadn’t had too much to drink, but the night air hummed pleasantly around them and Booth was enjoying the atmosphere. “That’s for the Eagles winning the game,” Jameel said, in answer to Seeley’s unspoken question. 

Booth nodded and grabbed Jameel’s hand as they approached Seeley’s building. Booth led Jameel up the stairs to his second floor apartment, shimmied the key from his slacks pocket, and unlocked the door. He chivalrously gestured for Jameel to enter first. 

In the dimly lit front hall of his apartment, Booth put his palm against Jameel’s chest and gently pushed him into the wall behind them. Jameel’s eyes twinkled as Booth, drawn almost magnetically, closed the distance between them. “This is for coming home with me,” Seeley rumbled, before his lips met Jameel’s. Booth’s other hand found Jameel’s waist as Jameel returned his kiss. The hunger in Booth’s stomach grew even as he pulled away. He reached around Jameel, enjoying how this allowed him to stay in his space, and flicked the hall light on. 

Jameel waggled his eyebrows. “Nice place. Is there anything other than this hallway?” 

Booth chuckled and kicked his shoes off, Jameel following suit. “Thanks. Make yourself at home. The kitchen’s this way. Can I get you anything to drink?” 

“I’d take some water, thanks.” Jameel settled himself against the counter while Booth grabbed two glasses and poured up. Noticing the photos on the fridge, Jameel asked, “Your nephew? Cute kid.” 

Handing Jameel his water, Booth grinned at the photo of himself and Parker, both holding up fish on a deck, their big smiles dappled by sunlight. “No, that’s my son. Parker.” 

Jameel’s comfortable composure caught for a moment: “Oh, you’re married?” 

Waving a left hand devoid of rings, Booth reassured, “You’re no homewrecker. And I’m an honest guy, no worries.” Jameel’s shoulders settled back again as he relaxed. “And Parker’s with his mom this weekend. We got the place to ourselves.” 

“That so?” Booth nodded and sipped his water while making eyes at Jameel. “In that case, I gotta ask… Do you wear your game day socks all day?” 

Booth drained his glass and set it on the counter by the sink, crossing so that he could put an arm on the counter on either side of Jameel. He leaned in close, hunger in his throat and devilish grin spreading, and said, “I bet you wanna find out, don’t you?”

This time Jameel closed the distance between their lips.  
___________________________________________________________

Seeley’s game day socks were on the floor. 

So were his slacks, coat, shirt, and undershirt. Jameel’s clothes were nearby, too. They lay together, nestled in the soft sheets on Seeley’s bed. The electric green numerals of the alarm clock carved the time into the night. “You want me to call you a cab?” Seeley’s voice was a little hoarse from the evening’s activities, which made him wonder vaguely about the last time he’d shared his bed. It had been a while. 

Jameel rolled over and rested his head on Seeley’s chest, looking up at him through long lashes. "I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome." This demureness made Seeley smile. 

"Oh no, of course not.” He kissed the top of Jameel’s head. “Come to think of it, I don't have any plans tomorrow, we could get breakfast or something if you want." 

Jameel all but purred and pulled himself up closer to Booth, swinging one leg over his waist. "Breakfast would be good," he leaned down, arms framing Booth's face. "You know what else would be good?" 

Booth's hands guided Jameel's hips as they began to move. "I can think of a thing or two." 

Their clothes stayed on the floor until morning.  
_______________________________________________________________

Monday had rolled around. Man, weekends came and went quickly these days. Booth guessed that Jameel did too, which made him chuckle. Chuckling on a Monday, wow! He should hook up on the weekend more often, apparently. 

Seeley was working a desk case while Bones was out of town. And this case was definitely what he was thinking about, for sure. He was really just helping out Organized Crime with a mob case that's probably as old as Booth was and way less hot, if you catch the drift. So what if Booth's mind was wandering. He'd get something to contribute after lunch. Anyway, the weirdest part of the weekend happened on Saturday morning, after Booth had scrambled up some eggs and fried up some bacon, while he and Jameel were eating breakfast at the counter...

"Hey, 'Buck and Wanda,' is that you and Parker's mom? "

Booth tilted his head and looked at Jameel. "What are you talking about?" 

"You know, picture with a travel trailer and you— with a very unflattering mustache, if I might add— and some hot lady with brown hair." 

Booth spoke around a mouthful of eggs, "No, no that's—" 

"Parker has brown hair too so I figured, maybe, that's his mom?" 

"Parker's mom is blonde, actually. But yeah no, that's not Parker's mom," Booth paused and considered the absolutely impossible situation of he and Dr. Brennan having a child together, then continued. "No, no, that's my partner." 

"Your partner? I thought you weren't married..?" 

"Okay you know what, you're right. That was confusing. No. My professional partner, that's Dr. Brennan, my partner at work." 

"Okay, I wasn't gonna make assumptions last night based on your very fancy suit, but now I have to ask. What do you and Dr. Wanda Brennan do involving…" Jameel studied the picture, trying to read the paint on the side of the trailer, "... Knives of death?" 

Booth laughed, "Okay, so that's confusing too, we had that photo taken as part of an undercover operation. I work for the FBI, Special Agent Seeley Booth," he pulled a serious face for effect. "And Dr. Brennan works for the Jeffersonian, she's a Bone Person. Her official title is like, anthropologist-scientist-genius uh, something like that. But what she actually does is stare at bones and then read them like a dictionary."' 

"Wow, so you work for the FBI and your partner is … a bone lady? Why do you need a bone lady?"

"We investigate homicides, usually. And if Bones— that's what I call her— is involved, it's probably a really...unsightly one… that requires her bone-ly expertise." He cleared his throat and sipped his coffee, feeling slightly sheepish. "I hope that's not too gross for breakfast conversation." 

"No it's cool, I'm just taking it in." Jameel crunched his bacon thoughtfully. "So you guys like, catch murderers? I thought the FBI was all about white collar crime." 

"The FBI has its fingers in many pies, so to speak. But yeah, we've put away a lot of bad guys." 

"So Dr. Brennan— Bones, right? So Bones isn't Parker's mom, then?" 

"What? No, no. Geez, you haven't even met her and you think we’re sleeping together. No, everybody seems to think that we are somehow … romantically involved… but we're not. Strictly business. No pleasure. Well, it's not that I dislike her! She's grown on me, for sure. Kind of an acquired taste—" 

"But you're gay, so it's just not really in the cards, I get it," Jameel asserted. 

"Huh? No, that's not it." 

"Hold on, after everything that happened last night, you're gonna try and tell me you're not gay?" 

/Wow, Seeley, very smooth. This is definitely going well./ "No, I'm not not gay. I'm bi. It's not like I've never touched a woman," 

"Right, 'cause how else could you get Parker?" 

At the mention of his son, Booth's face lit up. "Exactly! But yeah, I don't know, Bones and I just... don't connect like that. She's very smart. Too smart, sometimes. She can be very clinical, overly literal, stubborn…" Seeley trailed off before remembering himself. "And sure, she's hot, I mean anyone can see that, but uh, no. Strictly professional." 

Jameel nodded. "I totally understand." 

And just like that, the conversation had gone on, Jameel telling Booth about his own work as a construction engineer. Jameel seemed to completely accept that there was nothing going on between Bones and Booth. Which, of course, there was nothing going on. So there was no reason for Jameel to think there would be anything going on. Geez, Booth had practically taken him out on a date the night before, why would the guy think he was involved with his work partner anyway? That would be ridiculous. He could probably just tell that Bones is out of his league. Not, like, physically, of course. But she is in a way different tax bracket than Booth, and in a totally different GPA bracket too. As a very rational person, it would make no sense for her to be interested in Booth. 

Which is why he ought to get back to work. Just because Bones wasn't there to catch bad guys didn’t mean that Seeley couldn’t chase them down on his own. Hey, speaking of tax brackets, maybe he could double check some of the numbers on the case. Money never lies, right? 

_________________________________

Friday night had come and gone again, and Seeley and Jameel had once again enjoyed each other's company. Seeley and Jameel were cozily nestled in bed, peaceful and asleep, bodies close enough to share a pillow. Dreamy, dark night had just allowed the first glimpse of rosy-fingered dawn to cross the horizon when a garish ring split the air. A testament to muscle memory, Booth's hand shot out to his bedside drawer and grabbed his phone without checking the caller ID. 

Sleep muffled his voice somewhat as he answered, "Booth." 

"Hi Booth! It's Dr. Brennan!" 

"Bones, is everything okay? What are you doing calling me at six in the morning on a Saturday?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have forgotten the time difference. Nothing's wrong; quite the opposite! I've been having a wonderful time, this dig is fascinating! I was just calling to tell you about it. Here, it's dinner time and I am taking the evening for myself. I thought it would be a good time to catch up." 

Booth had sat up and shifted so that his feet hung over the side of the bed. His tired head rested on his arm, which in turn rested on his knee. Although Jameel hadn't fully woken up, his body had responded to the lack of Seeley's warmth and he moved closer to where Seeley had been a minute ago. "No no, I'll be right back. Don't wake up yet," Booth said to Jameel, voice soft. Not soft enough, apparently. 

"Oh, did I interrupt you and female company? I can call back, if you are busy with sexual activities. Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"No no no Bones, geez, why do you say it like that. I don't have female company…" He reached out and scratched Jameel’s back as he listened. 

"Well, I know Rebecca typically has Parker for this weekend, so I'm not sure who else you would be telling to go back to sleep. Why don't you like to talk to me about your romantic experiences, Booth? I thought you said partners should share with each other about their lives." 

"No, it's not Parker," Booth sighed and walked quickly to the kitchen. He didn't want to bother Jameel and wasn't sure how long to expect the phone call to last. "I don't have female company, I have male company. But don't say it like that, like you're somebody's grandma or something." 

"Male company-" 

"Bones, what did I just say!" 

"Would you prefer I say 'boyfriend' instead? I didn't know you had a boyfriend, Booth, congratulations! I hope he is sexually stimulating." 

"We've only seen each other a couple of times, so I don't think we're boyfriends just yet. And thanks for the congratulations, Bones. Please don't go spreading the news around though, I don't want all the squints losing their minds about it." 

"You have my utmost discretion, Booth." Why wasn't that very reassuring? "But I have to say, I'm not sure I understand why you would want to hide this from your colleagues. Surely a successful sexual partnership is something that you, as an alpha male, would rather flaunt so as to reinforce your status among your peers?" 

It was way too early in the morning for this. "Yeah, well, some people don't take too kindly to someone like me uh, keeping male company, so I play the cards a little close to the chest on it." 

"Booth, I hope you know homosexuality is nothing to be ashamed of! Our friend and coworker Angela has had significant relationships with women and we all treat her equally as Cam, who as far as I know, exclusively prefers the company of men. I could point out many cultures in which homosexuals are given elevated status simply because of their sexual preference—" 

"Hey Bones, people don't really like the word 'homosexual' okay? And I'm not ashamed of myself. And for the record, I'm not gay, why do people keep thinking that lately? I'm bi. Seriously, it's not a big deal. But people at the Bureau can get their panties in a bunch over way smaller stuff, so it's easier to just play it cool." 

"Has anyone made any untoward comments to you at work Booth? That could be grounds for legal action." 

"No, I'm not gonna sue the FBI, Bones, just listen. Just hold on a sec." He ran a hand through his hair, gel remnants still clinging to his hair from the previous day. "Nobody's said anything untoward. It's just uh, it's a people person thing, okay Bones? Some people just... would have an issue about it. Clearly not you, but some people."

"I have no issue with it. Oh, you know," Booth recognized that little switch in Bones' voice that indicated she was about to break out a well-practiced social line. "Angela has told me that in instances such as this, I should tell the person, 'Thank you for trusting me with this information about yourself. I appreciate you the way you are.'" Booth couldn't help but smile as he imagined how her posture would change ever so slightly as she said it, like it did when she told people, "I'm sorry for your loss," or, "Congratulations on your engagement." 

"You know, thanks Bones, that means a lot." 

From inside the bedroom, Jameel groaned, "Seeley, I'm getting cold." 

Booth tried to block the phone's mic with his bare chest. "I'll be right back, I'm just talking to Bones." 

Falling back asleep, Jameel mumbled, "Tell Bones I say hi… and come back soon!" 

Booth smiled into his phone. "Jameel says hi, Bones." 

"Who?" 

"Bones. Jameel. My male company. Come on, keep up!" 

"Hey, I thought you said I shouldn't call him your male company." Seeley remained quiet. He wasn't crazy about her calling Jameel his boyfriend, either. Even if they'd spent a few nights together already, it was a little too early for that. "Anyway, Jameel knows who I am?" 

"Of course he does, Bones, you're my partner." Booth heard the confusion in Dr. Brennan's silence. "He saw our circus picture on the fridge and he thought you were Parker's mom. I had to explain." 

"Seeley," Jameel called again, this time drawing out the vowels in Booth's name. "I'm coooold!" 

"Okay, I heard that one. I guess I should let you get back to your m-" Bones caught herself from saying 'male company,' silently considered 'boyfriend,' and landed on, "back to your... Jameel. I'll see you soon! I think you'll find the anthropological insights I've learned here about sport's place in society very interesting." 

"Yeah, Bones, I can't wait. I'll pick you up Monday morning. Wait, do you have a ride from the airport?" 

"Yes, Angela is picking me up Sunday evening." 

"Alright, then I'll see you Monday morning. Have a safe flight, Bones." 

"Statistically, the car journey from the airport is less dangerous than my flight home itself." 

"Okay Bones, it's just one of those things you say. Alright. Have a safe flight and drive from the airport. I'm going back to bed."

The call ended with a beep and Seeley padded back into his bedroom, curled back up with Jameel, and fell back asleep.


	2. Bones

Bones dialed Angela's number immediately after hanging up the call with Booth. Only when Angela answered, with sleep in her voice did Dr. Brennan recall the time difference.

"Sweetie, are you okay? It's, like, six in the morning. I didn't miss your flight, did I? That's tomorrow."

"You are correct, my flight is tomorrow. I'm sorry if I woke you up. Booth has a boyfriend." 

"Wait, what? Big burly Booth has a boyfriend?" 

"Yes, he is bi. Although Booth tells me that he's only been seeing Jameel for about a week and says I shouldn't call him his boyfriend. Or his male company." 

"Woah, okay. This is a lot to take in, right?" 

"Well, anthropologically speaking, it’s no surprise that a certain proportion of the population is bisexual. Booth being part of that subsection of the population is hardly shocking. Plus, Booth is quite an attractive man, so it is not surprising that he has found a sexual partner, regardless of their gender."

"Okay, yeah, Booth is hot, we all know that. But how did you find out about this guy?" 

"I just called Booth to tell him about how my dig is going, but I forgot about the time change, so I woke him up. And Jameel was in his bed, so I guess I woke him up too."

"You interrupted him in bed? Wow, what I would give to have been a fly on the wall for that." Angela's sweet laugh travelled miles in microseconds as Dr Brennan listened through her phone. "So, how are you feeling, babe?" 

"I guess I'm feeling a little disappointed—" 

"That is so totally understandable, Brennan! If I were you, I would be so bummed out to hear that Booth is knocking boots with some other guy."

"What? No, I'm not disappointed because I'm jealous." 

"Why else could you possibly be disappointed?" 

"When Booth told me that he is bi, he said he keeps his cards cool about it. As if he was concerned his work environment would be jeopardized if people knew about it. Oh, that reminds me, he told me not to tell anyone. So please don't tell anyone." 

"Of course, you can trust me, sweetie. So, just to get this straight: you're not disappointed that Booth is no longer single, you're disappointed that the FBI is kind of homophobic?" 

"Yes, I think that's an accurate assessment of the situation." 

"Hm. Okay, well, babe. That's tough. I don't think there's anything that can be done today about how homophobic the FBI is. All we can do is make sure that the Jeffersonian staff is as welcoming as can be. Which is how welcoming we already are, so that's good, right?" 

"Right. Thank you, Angela. Did I wake you up?" 

"It's 6am on Saturday, of course you woke me up!" Angela laughed again. Her laughter and voice soothed Dr. Brennan, though she wasn't sure why she needed soothing in the first place. It's not as if she had any hopes of getting together with Agent Booth. It would not be rational to even humor the idea, really. He was a much too romantic man to be interested in someone with such clinical interests as Dr. Brennan. He was also much more proficient than Bones at navigating emotional situations. If he had feelings for Dr. Brennan, he surely would have voiced them by now. 

"Well, I should let you get back to sleep then." 

"Thanks for calling, Brennan. That's wild news! I promise not to tell anyone before Booth does. But yeah, I'd love to get back to sleep. And I can't wait to see you tomorrow! And hear all about your dig," Angela's voice became playful, "aaaand the local anthropologists!" Dr. Brennan knew from experience that Angela was making an implication that she had slept with her fellow anthropologists on the dig. She chose to ignore the innocent implication and bid her friend goodbye. 

She had, in fact, not indulged in sexual intercourse for the duration of her trip. The other scientists, though competent and quite interesting to work with, did not seem to invite such activities. Dr. Brennan had been working with Booth and her team at the Jeffersonian for so long that she had forgotten how much effort it takes to get acquainted with a new group of people. New interpersonal dynamics, work expectations, and social mores. The amount of social stimuli combined with the rigorous intellectual exercise of conducting anthropological research in Spanish had been more tiring than she recalled. When had ritual death become so unfamiliar to her? When had homicide investigation become her comfort zone? 

Well, she supposed the answers to those questions weren't relevant, since she would be rejoining Booth and her team at the Jeffersonian in a matter of days. Dr. Brennan returned to her room service dinner and took in the view from her hotel balcony. She wondered what Jameel looked like, and how he and Booth had met.


	3. Booth

For the second time that day, Booth's blaring ringtone jostled him from slumber. "Dammit," he grumbled as he fumbled for the phone. "Booth." 

"Seeley, how fast can you come here and get Parker?" Rebecca's voice on the other end was strained, and, sensing the urgency, Booth was already out of bed and scrambling for shorts as he formed his response. 

"What are you talking about, Rebecca? I didn't get our weekends mixed up, did I? Is everything okay?" Seeley located his wallet and slid it into the pocket of his gym shorts. He started tugging on a shirt. 

"Jess had an allergic reaction and she's on the way to the ER. She left Casey with the neighbors, but Casey is gonna need to eat soon and you know how bad she is about latching lately, the neighbors won't be able to feed her. I gotta go! But Parker—" 

"Yeah, Parker's got t-ball today. I'm on my way right now, nothing to worry about. We'll be good over here, you go take care of your sister and niece."

"Thank you, Seeley." 

Booth finished sticking his arms and head through the appropriate holes. then gently shook Jameel's arm to try and wake him. No response. Seeley leaned down for a quick peck, okay, that didn't work either— sorry, Jameel— and he gave Jameel a gentle but effective wake up smack on the cheek. 

He sat up with a start, "What the hell?" 

"Hey listen, I'm sorry about the slap. You weren't waking up. Rebecca had an emergency come up and I gotta go grab Parker so she can go and take care of it. You can either get dressed in," Booth glanced at the alarm clock, "35 seconds and come with me, or just uh, get dressed and lock the door on your way out please." 

Jameel blinked wearily at Booth. Man. As cute as bleary-eyed Jameel was, this was not quite the get up and go Seeley had been hoping for. "Okay. If you wanna meet my kid, get dressed right now and we gotta go. If not, that's fine, but I have to go now, so please lock the door on your way out." 

The second time around seemed to clear things up and Jameel (still too slowly) snapped into action. Booth tossed him his T-shirt from the night before, while Jameel slipped into his jeans and fumbled for his socks in the sheets. 

"Just grab a pair of mine, let's go!" Booth handed Jameel a pair of Gold Toes and hauled him out of the room. 

Minutes later, Booth's SUV was cruising toward Rebecca's apartment. "Okay, Seeley, I was kind of asleep back there. Are you kidnapping me? What's going on?" 

"Rebecca's sister, Jess, had an allergic reaction and had to go to the ER. She left her baby with her neighbors, but the baby has been fussy about eating lately, so Rebecca has to get over to Alexandria before the baby misses the feeding window and messes the whole schedule up."

James blinked again, starting to wake up more. "Wait, so you're telling me that Rebecca's sister is in the ER with an allergic reaction, but the urgent problem that needs solving is that the baby— currently under adult supervision— needs a different adult so she doesn't miss snacktime?" 

Eyes still on the road, Booth nodded. "Now you're getting it!" 

Jameel shook his head, flummoxed. "Wow, babies are complicated." 

"You got that right." 

"Oh and woah, hey, we're on our way to pick up your son?" 

"Yeah. Is that alright? I was gonna hang out with him after you left this morning anyways, because he has a t-ball game, but now we'll just start hanging out sooner." 

"I'm allowed to meet your kid?" 

"Yeah, why not?" Booth suddenly changed from full focus on the road to peering at Jameel. "Are you gonna be weird about it?" Booth had hoped that Jameel would be excited by the prospect of meeting his son. 

"No, no, I won't be weird. Or like, I'll try not to be weird? What do I do to not be weird?" Jameel's gaze bounced around Booth's face and his knee started jumping. "I guess I've just never met anyone's kid before? It seems like a big deal?" 

Booth's head bobbed as he explained. "Well, it is important, but it's not a big deal. You don't have to be nervous. Parker is a good kid! And it's not like he's a secret, so he's met most of my friends. He's used to adults. He's real smart, you'll like him! He's a cool little dude." 

"Am I a secret?" Jameel asked quietly, nervously. 

"What are you talking about, Jameel?" Booth turned onto a residential street. The identical buildings meant that they were almost there. 

"Uh, I mean like, when you introduce me, how does that— like, who is he gonna think I am?"

"Oh, I get it." Each of Booth's partners that had met Parker had all had some version of this moment of panic. Booth wasn't sure he understood how meeting a 6 year old would make a grown adult nervous, but it might have something to do with seeming to force a definition onto the relationship. Luckily for Jameel, Booth already knew how best to handle this situation. "I'll just introduce you as my friend. I'm not closeted to him or anything, but I don't want a put any pressure on him by introducing a boyfriend or girlfriend as such unless it's a serious thing. You understand, right? I won't set him up for a big letdown." Booth didn't mention that if he hadn't liked Jameel enough, he would not have offered the ride along, and instead would have simply kicked him out so that he could go pick up his son on his own.

Jameel pondered this instruction as Booth pulled into Rebecca's driveway. "Yeah, I can understand that."

"Great! Just tell him about your job, he'll be so excited to hear you work in construction." Booth leaned over and planted a quick kiss on Jameel’s cheek, then leaned back and grinned at him. Jameel seemed to have relaxed a bit. "I'll be right back with Parker."  
____________________________________

Booth balanced Bones' to-go cup of coffee on top of his and knocked on her apartment door. She never asked him to bring coffee for her, but it would just be rude not to bring her a cup. Or at least, if anyone asked, that's what he would say. If he was being honest with himself, he just liked to be nice to Bones. She had this cute little smile when she would take the cup out of his hand, one that was different than her other ones. He only saw it when he brought her coffee. Plus— not that he'd admit it— she could get a little grumpy without it sometimes. 

Bones opened the door, and for a split second, Booth just stood there. It had only been two weeks since they had last seen each other, and Bones hadn’t changed, but he drunk her in anyway, recommitting each detail of her face to his memory without even intending to. 

Bones stepped out of the door and locked it. “It’s good to see you, Booth.” She pulled Booth into a hug, forcing him to tighten his grip on the coffees in his left hand while he pulled her close with his right. He could smell her shampoo, and for a moment part of him wanted to just stay there, holding Bones tight and breathing her in.

Seeley remembered himself and offered Bones the top coffee cup. “How was the flight?”

Dr. Brennan smiled as she took a sip of coffee and said, “Perfectly safe, just as I said it would be.” 

The two of them strode down the apartment building’s hallway and out into the morning sunshine. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure the flight attendant’s don’t announce it on the P.A. if something is going wrong with the flight. You could be a little more grateful, you know.” Booth’s ribbing had no bite. 

Brennan considered, “It is possible that my daily exposure to homicide victims and their remains has numbed me somewhat to the reality of death.” They both ducked their heads as they climbed into the SUV. 

“In Peru, I was working on a site where the remains of over 140 children were found.”

“You know, you can just say ‘Happy Monday, Booth!’ if you want.”

“What are you talking about? We were examining the remains to determine what may have precipitated such a widespread sacrifice of children.”

“If you missed me, you could just say so, Bones.” 

Dr. Brennan’s eyebrows drew together as she looked at her partner, then continued. “Anthropologically, it was fascinating.” Still studying Booth’s face, she continued. “But I have to admit, I felt… I don’t know how to explain it. It doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Feelings don’t make sense, Bones. They just are what they are.”

“I felt bewildered by it,” Bones admitted. “I know that our work is usually much more gruesome than what I was examining in Huanchaquito-Las Llamas, and yet, I was psychologically drained by the work we did there. The remains we were examining were mainly children, ages ranging from eight to twelve. Their demise was undoubtedly culturally motivated, and we don’t have enough evidence to understand exactly why these children were put to death. They were just kids, Booth. Parker’s age.” As Bones continued speaking, watching the horizon pass through the window, Booth's attention was split between his partner and the road ahead. "Academically, I know that finding out the truth about the archaeological dig is important. But I'm glad that we spend our time on current cases. I find it very meaningful to bring murderers to justice, and to be able to tell victims' families the truth about what happened to their loved ones." 

For someone who was usually comfortable with conversations like this, Seeley felt weirdly out of his element. Maybe he was thrown because this was one of Bones' rare emotional moments. A quietness had begun to thrum in the car, which dissipated when he said, "Me too, Bones. Me too." 

The pair sat thoughtfully a moment or two, each stewing over their perceptions of the other in their minds. 

"How is Jameel?" Dr. Brennan asked, her gaze returning to her partner. 

"He's uh, he's alright, Bones, why do you ask?" 

"I'm simply taking an interest in your life, Booth, do I need to have some ulterior motive? How did you meet? Since we talked on the phone, I've been wondering if it's common for you to take a spontaneous sexual partner. It's an interesting question because you seem to hold a conservative view of sexual partnerships, yet you have a child out of wedlock—"

"You know what, I don't want to talk to you about Jameel.” Booth interrupted. “It's not really your business what kind of partnerships I do or don't make." 

"I don't understand why you are so unwilling to talk to me about this. I'm not judging you, I am simply curious about your role in the wider community." 

"I'm starting to think it would be better if you did judge me. That would be less weird," muttered Booth. He ground his teeth for a second before saying, "We met at a bar. You know the one right by my place?"

Bones' eyes lit up in realization. "So this was a spontaneous connection! What do they call it, a one night dresser?" 

"One night stand, Bones, except it's not! If it was, I wouldn't have told you about it. And we wouldn't have seen each other again." 

"So you did sleep together the same day you met?" 

Booth's head jerked to the side, brow furrowed in disbelief, discomfort, dis… something, and shot back, "What is this, some kind of interrogation? He's a Giants fan, and they were playing, so we talked about the game. I showed him my game day socks and of course the Eagles won," a smile crinkled Booth's eyes in recollection, "and we made a bet about who would win the game, and I won the bet." 

"Booth, you made a bet?! I thought you didn't gamble!" 

"It wasn't that kind of bet, uh, no money exchanged." 

Now it was Dr. Brennan's brow that was furrowed as she considered the implication of Booth's words. "So, since it's not a one night stand, when will you bring Jameel to the lab?" 

"There are so many things wrong with that question, Bones. Why would I bring him to the lab in the first place? He's not like you, he doesn't want to look at dead people spread out like barbecue on a metal table." 

Brennan stiffened and returned, "The Jeffersonian is a renowned institution. You wouldn't have to show him any human remains, but you could introduce him to me and the rest of our team. Have you ever been to the museum side of the Jeffersonian? It seems like a suitable venue for a romantic outing." 

Booth's chin jutted out as he considered. "I've taken Parker to the dinosaur section, but I never thought of taking a date there. Huh. Jameel’s an engineer, he might like that nerd stuff. You know what, Bones, that's not a bad idea! Except for the whole, meeting the squints thing. I really don't think they need to know." 

Paved road turned to gravel beneath the SUV’s tire as Booth turned the vehicle into a construction site.

"Why don't you like the scientists on our team? You seem very fond of the evidence they provide, which makes your work possible, yet you take any opportunity to belittle them. It's not very flattering, Booth."

Booth held his tongue as both investigators got out of the car. The SUV, squeezed in with a rusty truck and a squad car with its lights off, filled the lot practically to capacity. 

Both front doors slammed as Dr. Brennan and Booth exited the SUV. A lanky construction worker approached, her brown hair swinging in two braids. “Y’all with the cops?” 

“FBI. Local PD called us in.” Booth accompanied his response with a flash of his badge, and the worker nodded and led Booth and Brennan along the path from the lot into the skeletal building. 

“This is a big mess, y’all. We found some poor guy in the foundation when we got in this morning. I just hope the project’s not delayed too much, I have another job lined up next month and I can’t miss it.” 

“We’ll try to keep our investigation quick then, wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” deadpanned Booth. This earned a quizzical look from Bones, to which Booth silently shook his head in reply. 

“Yeah, well… here he is. And here’s the boss man, Jameel Park.” The group rounded a corner into a room, filled with a horribly familiar stench, and a few people standing clustered around a large, dark patch in the cement floor. 

There was a tall, broad man in jeans and a tucked in long sleeve flannel talking to one of the police officers. Though he was wearing a hard hat like the rest of the crew, the bill of which shaded his face, this man had an air of authority around him. At the sound of his name, Jameel looked up, scanning the scene, his eyes widening at the sight of Booth. 

Booth cleared his throat and lifted his badge again, “Special Agent Seeley Booth. This here is my partner, Dr. Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute.”


	4. Bones

“I can introduce myself, Booth,” Brennan groused, as she crossed to the dark spot on the ground. “How were the remains discovered?” She was crouched near the blossomed darkness in the cement, examining it closely. The stain appeared to be caused by soft tissue that had separated from the skeleton. Hopefully the bones were intact enough to provide information about what had transpired. The body would have to be somehow extricated from the concrete and then Cam would have to analyze the flesh, and all of this must happen before Dr. Brennan could examine the bones. 

A voice above her head replied, “The foreman came in this morning and… uh, it’s pretty hard to miss. They called me right away, and we called the police.” 

Brennan stood and placed her hands on hips. “Separating the remains from the concrete is going to be challenging. The bones will be damaged if this isn’t handled with absolute precision.” Booth knew what she would say next before she opened her mouth: “We’re going to need to transport this entire slab of concrete to the Jeffersonian.” 

"Alright, people, you heard her. Let's get this to the lab." Booth clapped his hands and the police officers snapped to action, radioing their counterparts at the precinct and coordinating transport for the significant piece of concrete. Bones stood up and momentarily questioned why the officers had only mobilized after her partner had repeated her order. Why had he repeated it in the first place? Perhaps he was asserting his dominance, although Dr. Brennan wasn’t sure who at the site might cause Booth to feel threatened. Local police officers logically fell beneath Booth in the social strata of law enforcement, so there was no need for him to expend effort to solidify that status. There were no potential sexual partners at the site for whom he might be showing off, Bones thought, though in the privacy of her own thoughts, she would admit that the ease with which he commanded the situation was flattering.

With one eyebrow quirked on an otherwise straight face, Booth said, “Hey, Boss Man Jameel, would you be willing to come with us and answer some questions about the situation?” Jameel nodded in agreement and crossed the cement to join the other two. 

As quickly as the investigators had arrived on the scene, they were ready to leave again. 

The air in the car was slightly stiff. In the back seat, Jameel seemed to be waiting for Booth to introduce him before speaking, potentially indicating a less dominant personality, Bones thought. 

Once they were off the gravel road of the lot, Booth broke the silence. “So, Jameel, this is my partner, Bones. Bones, this is my—” he cleared his throat and continued, “Jameel.” Perhaps there had been a potential— _actual_ , Bones amended— sexual partner at the scene after all. Who could have guessed that, despite his insistence of the opposite, Booth would be introducing Dr. Brennan to his male companion on her first day back to work?

Facing forward, Bones asked Jameel, “Do you often find human remains on your worksites?” 

“Uh, believe it or not, this doesn’t really happen very often. And honestly, a lot of time, I am back at the office, not at the sites themselves.” Jameel shifted in the backseat as he answered. His knee jumped and he was fussing with the buttons on one of his cuffs. “Do you think someone killed this guy and left him on our work site?”

“We will have to gather more evidence before making a definite statement, but at this point, murder seems the most likely explanation.” Dr. Brennan was reevaluating her opinion of the intellectual rigor required of an engineer. Surely it should be clear that a body found buried in concrete is likely not the result of natural death. 

“Alright, Bones, take it easy. Not everyone is used to this kind of thing, remember?” Jameel gave a tight, grateful smile. “We’ll get this figured out, Jameel. Bones and I are pretty much the best D.C.’s got, so if anyone can figure out what happened, it’s us.” 

“Am I a suspect?” The question wobbled in the air, as if Jameel was afraid to even invoke the idea. 

His knee jumped even faster as Bones and Booth simultaneously replied, “Yes,” and “No, of course not.” 

Booth shot a meaningful glare at Dr. Brennan as he continued, “We’ll have to do an investigation, but I don’t consider you a suspect.”

The group soon arrived at the FBI office, where Booth led Jameel to the interrogation room while Bones went to gather Sweets from his office. Booth had just stepped out of interrogation as Bones and Sweets approached. 

“Why did you tell him he’s not a suspect, Booth? We don’t know enough about the case to say that yet.” Bones’ furrowed brow and tense intonation betrayed her frustration. 

“Concrete has a fairly predictable schedule. Jameel told me they were laying the concrete during the day on Friday, which means that whoever did it had to have put the body in the slab before it had hardened up, so probably sometime Friday or Saturday. I happen to know that he was not dumping a body anywhere Friday night or Saturday morning.” Booth’s hand was already on the door handle, ready to go back into the room. He glanced quickly and furtively at their psychologist counterpart before continuing earnestly, “Bones, I swear, my situation doesn’t change anything about the case. We’re gonna do our investigation just like always, and if Jameel somehow does turn out to be the killer, then I don’t want to spook him right now. And if I’m right that he is not a killer, then he’ll have good information to tell us. Can you just trust me a second? You guys stay out here, I’m gonna talk to him by myself.” Booth turned and walked back into interrogation; Drs Brennan and Sweets walked into the adjoining observation room. 

"So, what's the story on this guy?" Sweets asked. 

Staring with enough intensity to bore through the glass of the one-way mirror, Brennan replied, "A cadaver was found encased in cement this morning at a construction site. Jameel is apparently the ‘boss’ of the site, so we brought him in to get more information." 

Sweets nodded, accepting Bones’ unusual demeanor as typical of an unusual woman. "And Booth already got his alibi. How'd we get the time of death so fast?" 

Brennan pursed her lips in thought, but before she could reply, their conversation was interrupted by the crackle of the intercom transmitting the conversation between Booth and Jameel. 

"Thank you for coming in to answer some questions. I appreciate you taking time out of your day." Booth was seated in a relaxed position opposite Jameel, who was sitting with the perfectly rigid posture of a wind-up toy the moment before its release. Booth continued, "Can you describe your role at the construction site?" 

"Uh, yeah, I'm the company engineer. Basically, when we are bidding on jobs, I make sure that they're logistically feasible. I'm not on the site every day, but I do visit to make sure everything is going smoothly, or if there are any issues. I'll also coordinate with architects for projects if that's needed." As Jameel spoke, his eyes never left Booth’s. 

Booth nodded. "When did the concrete get poured?" 

"They poured concrete during the day Friday, so that it would have enough time over the weekend to set. This way it would be hard enough for us to drive equipment on it and stuff today." 

"When would the body need to have been placed for it to be undetected until today?" Booth probed.

"It would have to have been sometime Friday afternoon or evening. It would have been too hard to get anything into it by Saturday." At this, Booth broke eye contact to give a pointed look toward the mirror. 

"I see. Who among the crew would have had late-night access to the site?" 

"Only three people at the company have gate keys, that's me, the foreman, and the company owner, Wilson Davies. And the concrete had been smoothed out on top of the body, so whoever did this must have known how to handle concrete." As that realization crossed his lips, a pained expression clouded Jameel’s face. "One of my coworkers did this, didn't they? I can't believe this…" 

Booth reached across the table and laid a hand on top of Jameel's, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "We will find whoever did this and put them away." The two locked eyes and something that Bones could not interpret seemed to pass silently between them. 

In the observation room, Sweets raised his eyebrows. "Okay, wow, that's a personal touch from Agent Booth. How did you say you got this guy's alibi again?" 

"I didn't," came Dr. Brennan's short reply. "Booth will explain." 

Sweets looked at her quizzically, but their attention was drawn back to the other side of the mirror. 

Booth had let go of Jameel's hand and posed another question. "I hate to ask, but you understand, I have to. We don't have an ID on the body yet. Is the construction crew all accounted for?" 

Jameel visibly paled again, "Oh shit… Um, I think so. At least the workers were all there this morning, I think. I'll have to check with the foreman to be certain." 

Booth produced a small notepad and pen from inside his suit coat. "Why don't you go ahead and write down everyone's names and contact information, that way Bones and I can check it out.” 

While Jameel was writing his coworkers’ names and numbers down, Booth turned toward the one-way mirror again and waggled his eyebrows with a smile. Jameel slid the notebook and pen back to Booth, who picked them up and smoothly replaced them inside his jacket. “I think that’s all for now. If you think of anything else, you call me, okay?”


	5. Booth

Booth, Brennan, and Jameel were in the car again. This time to drop Bones at the lab, then to return Jameel to the construction site. He wished Bones hadn't been so intense to Jameel, who was obviously seriously freaked out by the whole situation. And honestly, being freaked out was a reasonable reaction. A small part of Booth wondered if it would be nice to have a job where finding a dead body was an incredibly unpleasant and totally not regular thing. He was taking a creative route so that he could drop Bones off first, and apologize to Jameel on her behalf after she left. He promised to keep her in the loop and said he'd pick her back up if they needed to go anywhere. 

Once they were alone, Booth cajoled Jameel into the front seat, and they were back on their way. "Hey, Jameel, I'm sorry about Bones grilling you earlier."

Jameel laughed nervously. "That was kind of intense, yeah. Is she always like that?" 

"Well, you know, she's a straight shooter I guess." 

“So you do this every day? Somebody calls about a dead person where there shouldn’t be and then you figure out who did it?”

Seeley chuckled, “Well, we’re good, but we’re not one case a day good. But I guess, in a nutshell… yeah.” 

Brow furrowed, Jameel asked, “And you like that?” A small silence ensued. Booth turned the question over in his mind. Did he like his job? Of course he did. Who better to get bad guys off the streets than Seeley Booth? Who else had fifty plus souls weighing on his conscience, a tally that obliged him to this line of work? Besides, as creepy as Bones could get about the nitty-gritty, gross, slimy part of investigations, he did love the evidence she and her team found. Seeing Bones develop as an investigator in her own right over the years was an added bonus. She has a long way to go when it comes to trusting her gut, or hell, even knowing that she has a gut to trust in the first place, but Booth did relish working with such a canny and fastidious mind. He usually hated working with a partner because they simply slowed him down. With Bones, he felt completely at the right pace. Their work complemented and pushed the other’s. He’d never felt this way about a partner. Never had the complete trust and confidence in someone else like this. 

All at once, Booth realized that Jameel had been studying him while he was lost in thought. His fingers flexed and re-gripped the steering wheel, grounding himself to reality through the firm plastic texture beneath his palms and fingers. “Any issues among the crew lately?” Booth asked. 

Jameel looked away and shrugged. “The on-site crew doesn’t really tell me about that type of thing." 

Booth turned and grinned at Jameel, "You didn't tell me they call you 'Boss Man!' You should have told Parker, he would have thought that was so cool," 

"They just say that to give me a hard time," Jameel groaned as he made a face and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm young compared to a lot of folks on the job. They don't like having to check in with me on decisions and stuff." 

“Aw, you’re not that young! Just fresh faced is all,” Seeley pinched one of Jameel’s cheeks, who laughed for the first time that day, shrugging and protesting Booth’s teasing. 

Soon enough they arrived back at the job site, where Jameel introduced Booth to the foreman for questioning, then returned to his work. 


	6. Bones

Back at the Jeffersonian, Dr. Brennan and her team were analyzing the remains. The body had been fully encased by the concrete, which created quite a challenge. Though any delay in accessing the bones was surely a frustration, this challenge wouldn’t stop Dr. Brennan’s team from finding the truth. Dr. Hodgins had attacked the conundrum with his characteristic exuberance, and soon enough designed a protocol to remove the body from the concrete with minimal damage. Of course, the flesh had to be examined and then removed by Dr. Saroyan before the bones could be examined by Brennan. Underneath the concrete shell, the soft tissue proved to be a fount of evidence, which meant a further delay before Bones could put her expertise to work. 

Dr. Brennan had returned to her office, where she was reading the latest  _ Anthropological Quarterly, _ when Hodgins crossed the doorframe. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Hodgins announced, "Cam's working on the flesh now, but here's the exciting part!" He grinned while holding up a pair of forceps— apparently empty. 

"Dr. Hodgins, you said that very confidently, but I fail to see what is exciting about that pair of forceps." 

With a good-natured eye roll, Hodgins replied, "Not the tool, Dr. Brennan, but the insect!" He strode to Bones' desk and thrust the forceps into the light of her desk lamp. "See! This is a common fruit fly. But there are about 2,000 different fruit fly variations, which means that once I identify the species of this individual, that will give us information about where the murder took place." Hodgins removed the insect from the lamplight and gazed adoringly at it. 

"You were correct, that is exciting. I look forward to your findings!" 

Hodgins left Brennan's office, a bug-smile on his face, headed for his microscope and entomological tomes. Recalling that Cam was working on the soft tissue, Bones also left her office and headed to the forensics stage. 

"Anything of note yet?" In the years following Dr. Saroyan's installment at the Jeffersonian, Dr. Brennan had come to appreciate the insights that flesh provides. 

In lieu of a salutation, Dr. Saroyan offered Bones a wallet. Dr. Brennan pulled on blue nitrile gloves as Cam explained, "Turns out that the victim was clothed when he was encased. As luck would have it, his wallet was in his pocket. ID and everything!"

Bones had, in fact, already removed the ID from the wallet and was studying it. "Luck played no role in the location of the victim's wallet, Cam. Nevertheless, this is an excellent find. I'll tell Booth. Please let me know when the bones will be available for my examination."

"Of course. And before you head off, you should know. There was no concrete in the victim's mouth, nose, or throat. I'll probe the lungs just to be sure, but as of now, the evidence indicates—"

"The victim was already deceased when his body was placed into the concrete." Bones chimed in.

Cam nodded in affirmation. "Exactly. Not looking good for an accidental death." 

"Thank you, Cam." 

Back in her office, Dr. Brennan gathered her briefcase as she dialed Booth. 

"Booth."

"Booth, it's me. Cam found the victim's wallet in his pants. It's Wilson Davies." 

"Woah, like ‘Davies Construction’ Davies? Getting buried in your own foundation, whew, there's gotta be a lesson there, right Bones?”

“What’s Davies Construction?”

“That’s the construction company that Jameel works for. They own the site where the body got dumped. So you’re telling me that the body is Wilson Davies? Whew, what a way to go, huh?” Despite the fact that Bones had just shared the identity of a murder victim, which didn’t usually make Booth laugh, he was chuckling at the other end of the phone call.

Dr. Brennan was unsure what exactly had struck Booth as funny. They had worked with remains found in concrete before, and didn’t recall him thinking those cases were funny. Sidestepping this confusion, Bones said. “We’ll need to notify Mr. Davies’ next of kin.” 

Regaining his serious tone, Booth replied, “Yeah, of course. I’m on the way to pick you up from the lab now.” 

“Excellent.” Dr. Brennan hung up and headed for the lab’s exit. 

Dr. Brennan relished interviewing suspects with Booth. Not only did the interpersonal vignettes provide interesting context that bones alone are unable to provide, but Bones found it fascinating to observe Booth in these situations. His ability to extract meaningful information from abstract cues such as facial expressions, linguistic patterns, and body language was quite impressive. When they had first met, Bones had dismissed this ability. Having no evidence for his claims, she simply did not believe them. After prolonged observation and repeated success based on his analysis, however, she had come to a new conclusion. His skillset was incredibly valuable, and it distinguished him from other investigators. The few times that she had been forced to work with another FBI agent, she found she was frustrated by their— how could she explain this? Well, perhaps she was merely frustrated that they were not Agent Booth. She found their partnership very rewarding. 

______________

“So get this: Mr. Davies’ husband, Mike, reported him missing Saturday morning. I just got off the phone with local PD about it.” Booth had picked up Dr. Brennan from the lab, and they were headed to the Davies’ residence to talk to Mike, the victim’s husband. 

Booth was wearing a new tie. Dr. Brennan found it slightly distracting that she hadn’t noticed this earlier that morning. It suited him well. “If the husband reported the victim missing, do you think that suggests his innocence?” 

“I’m surprised at you, Bones! You’re the one who is always saying we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions before we have all the data.” Booth grinned at her. “But uh, yeah, actually in this case I think you’re onto something there. When a married person gets killed, it’s their spouse 99% of the time.” 

“Is that an accurate statistic?” Dr. Brennan asked, one eyebrow quirked as her skepticism rose to her surface.

“Well, no. But it’s close, Bones, you can take my word for it. This could be one of those 1% times, though. Can't see why he'd kill his husband one day and report him missing the next. I’ll be interested to hear what Mr. Davies has to say about the late Mr. Davies.” The two partners shared a look before exiting the car. 

The Davies’ home was surrounded by a lush green lawn and well-manicured landscaping details. As she and Booth waited for someone to answer the knock on the front door, Bones asked, “Are there any other suspects right now?” 

“Well, apparently Davies Construction and a rival company had some pretty fierce competition for the job that they’re working right now. Apparently, it’s gonna be some celebrity’s house, which makes it a big money project. Maybe big enough to kill over.” Booth waggled his eyebrows then shrugged. “We’ll have to talk to somebody at that company to find out more. What did the squints dig up off the body?” 

Before Bones could reply, the door swung open. A tall man was standing on the threshold, looking like a lost scarecrow. Booth cleared his throat. “Mike Davies?” The tall man nodded, and Booth continued, “I’m Special Agent Seeley Booth—” he flipped open his badge to show his credentials. “This here is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. We’d like to ask you a few questions about your husband Wilson. Can we come in?”

At the mention of Wilson, Mike’s face lost all color. “What kind of questions? Is Wil okay?” He motioned for Booth and Brennan to come inside. 

“Wilson is not okay. He is dead,” Bones said simply.

Booth grimaced and added, “We’re sorry for your loss.” 

Mike’s face crumpled as he gasped, “Oh, god. This is awful.” A glimmer of hope surfaced and he asked, “Are you sure it’s him?”

Brennan nodded. “His remains were clothed, and we found his wallet in his pocket. We will likely do a DNA test to be completely certain, but it seems unlikely that someone else was killed with Wilson’s wallet in their pocket.” Mike put his face in his hands and groaned. 

“I can’t believe this. When he didn’t come home on Friday night, I… I just thought… I guess I don’t know what I thought.” 

“Maybe you’d like to sit down for this conversation, Mike. We appreciate your cooperation.” Bones privately marveled at Booth’s deftness in his navigation of this type of situation. Although she may not often say as much, Dr. Brennan appreciated this skill especially. Although she was certainly the world’s foremost authority in the field of forensic anthropology, she often felt woefully unprepared to handle the situation of breaking unfortunate news to victims’ loved ones. In these moments, she was grateful that Booth comfortably took the lead. 

Mike nodded hazily, and led the pair through the front hall into the kitchen. The house was notably fancy, spacious with marble floors. If the state of the Davies’ home was any indication of how the construction business was going, the company must have been doing well. Beyond the kitchen, a pool room was visible, and further down the hall, Bones noticed a room with a big screen TV and plush sectional couch. 

The three of them settled at the kitchen table. Booth had produced some tissues from his jacket, which he offered to Mike as he asked, “Do you know of any disagreements that Wilson had with anyone?” 

Mike dabbed his nose and thought. “Everybody loves Wilson. He’s— he was the sweetest guy. Business was good, his employees like him, he was even getting ready to transfer partial ownership to his engineer, what’s his name?” 

“Jameel Park,” Bones asserted, casting a look in Booth’s direction. “That’s interesting.” 

Booth cleared his throat and shot a warning look back at Bones. “We heard that you had reported your husband missing Saturday morning. When did you last hear from him?”

As Booth spoke, the bright beeping of an oven timer rang through the kitchen. Mike leapt from his chair to stop the beeping, and grabbed oven mitts to take whatever he was baking out of the oven. The warm smell of fresh banana bread wafted from the oven and filled the room. 

“Friday morning, when he went into the office. I knew he would be home late for dinner because he had a meeting at 5, with the owner of Stanley Builders. Or at least, that’s what he told me. But he never came home that night, and when I woke up on Saturday and he still wasn’t home, I knew something must be wrong.” 

“Mr. Davies, did Wilson have meetings after work frequently?” Brennan recognized from Booth’s delicate tone of voice and increased formality in appellation that Booth was posing a specific inquiry, obfuscated by politeness, but she wasn’t quite sure what question he was really asking. 

“What are you implying, Agent Booth?” Mike’s lips tightened and he blinked a few times as his eyes filled with tears. Booth remained silent as he waited for a response. “You think he was stepping out on me, don’t you?” /Oh./

Booth shifted in his seat. “I don’t want to overstep here, but…” 

Mike sighed and looked away. “That’s what I think too. He has always been hardworking, but lately… he’s had a lot of dinnertime meetings. I don’t know. I try to trust him, but suspicions like this have a way of getting into your head, you know what I mean?” 

“Sure.” Booth nodded sympathetically and Mike gave a watery smile in return. “Is there anyone specific that you think your husband may have been having dinner meetings with?” 

His shoulders rose and fell as Mike replied, “I’m not really sure. He has been talking a lot about some kind of deal with Stanley Co, so I guess he could have really had a meeting. Maybe someone at his gym?” Mike seemed to realize something and added, “I thought the Stanley deal was going well, but maybe the guys over there weren’t happy with how it was going. You should definitely talk to them.” 

“Who was Wilson’s Friday meeting with?” Dr. Brennan asked. 

“That would be Stanley Co owner, Jake Trent.” 

“If you could just write down his contact information for us, we’d really appreciate that.” Booth said, sliding his notebook and pen across the table to Mike. 

“Of course. Anything to help find whoever hurt Wil.”

New information on their next lead in hand, Bones and Booth left the Davies’ house and headed back to the car. 

Inside the car, Brennan asked, “Did you know that Jameel was going to be made an owner of the business?” 

Shrugging, Booth replied, “No, but with something like this, he might not even know himself. I wouldn’t be surprised if Wilson had only discussed it with Mike.”

“I find that learning about this makes me feel conflicted about Jameel,” admitted Bones. 

“What? Why?” 

“Well, Wilson’s intention to transfer ownership of the business to Jameel indicates that he must be a very competent engineer. That’s good for you, because of your personal connection with him.” Booth raised his eyebrows but didn’t speak. “But this presents a plausible motive for Jameel to have killed Wilson Davies.” 

At this, Booth’s brow wrinkled and he shook his head. “No, Bones, I don’t think so—”

“Your judgment may be affected by hormones released as part of a sexual experience, Booth—”

“What? No, I don’t say that because my brain is overwhelmed by sex hormones,” Booth scoffed, “It just wouldn’t make sense for Jameel to do that.” 

“Perhaps Jameel was tired of waiting for Wilson to make his decision, and decided to speed things along by kicking his bucket.”

“Okay, _maybe_ , but if you’re right that Jameel is a competent enough engineer that Davies was gonna give the business to him, wouldn’t he be smart enough not to dump the body at his own workplace?” 

“Oh.” Bones pursed her lips. “I admit that argument is logically sound.” 

Booth couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Yeah.” 

“Okay, so if it’s not Jameel, then what do you think of the other suspects?”

“Well, it sounds like there’s at least two others, right? We got the Stanley Construction guy and the cheater. We might as well talk to the construction guy first, since we don’t have any solid leads on the cheater.”

Dr. Brennan nodded and said, “It took Hodgins a long time to get the body separated from the concrete, so I haven’t been able to examine the bones yet. When I left the lab, Hodgins had found a fruit fly in the victim’s hair. He was working on identifying it and said the species may be able to provide insight as to where the victim was when he was killed.” 

“A fruit fly, huh? I’ll keep an eye out for any while I check out Stanley Co.” 

“Cam was just beginning her examination of the flesh when you picked me up.” The bright chime of Dr. Brennan’s cell phone interrupted her, but before she picked up the phone, Bones said, “Additionally, Cam found no cement in the victim’s mouth or nose, suggesting that he was already deceased when his body was placed at the site.” Flipping her cell open, she answered, “Dr. Brennan.”

“It’s me, Cam. I’ve finished with the flesh. There were several blows to the right scapula, which I’m thinking were the cause of death. Hodgins was able to pull some particulates from the wound sites. He’s working on analysis now.”

“Excellent. Does Hodgins have any initial impressions on the particulates?” 

“He said they are some type of hardwood, but he’ll need a bit more time with the samples before saying anything definite. As we speak, the beetles are having a bone buffet. The bones will be all yours first thing in the morning.” It was nearing five o’clock. If Dr. Brennan had not been on a 10 hour flight the day before, she would have considered going to the lab and waiting for the beetles to finish their work. 

“Thanks, Cam, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bones hung up and turned to Booth. “Cause of death appears to be trauma to the scapula—”

“Death by shoulder blade? Ouch!” Booth interjected.

“Hodgins found some particulate matter in the wound, which he is analyzing now,” continued Bones. “Cam is finished with the flesh, but the bones won’t be ready for me until the beetles are done with them. Probably tomorrow morning.” 

“So you’re gonna call an early night?”

“Until the beetles are finished eating the flesh off the bones, I won’t be able to do anything else at the lab. It could take up to 12 hours, but depending on how much flesh was left, it might be sooner. I should go back to the lab to check.” 

“Nah, come on. The bones will still be there in the morning!” 

“That’s true." Bones considered for a moment. "Usually I don’t mind working late, but I find my body is still recovering from the long plane ride.” 

“Alright, let’s go to the diner!” Booth’s eyelids crinkled as he grinned. “A welcome back treat, on me!” 


End file.
